


my mind is almost nineteen (and i still feel angry)

by maritae



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin are Best Friends, Protective Bellamy Blake, Revolution AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Undercover, bellamy is grumpy most of the time, bellarke as revolutionaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maritae/pseuds/maritae
Summary: Bellamy cocked his head to the side,  and she was momentarily distracted by the way his brown curls danced around his face. “Aww c’mon princess. Don’t tell me you haven't figured it out”, he said as a crooked grin spread over his face.“Welcome to the Delinquents.”Clarke Griffin is known as the princess of the Ark. But ever since her father’s mysterious death, Clarke has been determined to destroy those responsible. There’s only one problem: she doesn’t know how. That changes when she meets Bellamy Blake, the leader of an underground resistance group known as the Delinquents.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been an avid reader of bellarke fanfiction for years, so i figured what better time then quarantine to try writing one!  
> I can already tell this is going to be a monster to write but I'm gonna try and update as regularly as possible.  
> Hope you enjoy!!  
> -K
> 
> *title from I Like That You Can See It by Girlpool*

If Abby didn’t stop talking soon, Clarke was going to lose her mind.

She was normally able to block out the droning noise of Abby picking apart every flaw in her appearance, or questioning whether Clarke was going to “move on with her life” anytime soon. As if her inability to go back to her everyday life before her father’s death was an inconvenience to Abby’s plan. Which it definitely was; not that Clarke cared. Normally, she would just pretend to listen to her lectures until she was safe to escape back to her room in the other wing, knowing that the Ark was so big that she could easily avoid her mother for a few days. It wasn’t like Abby noticed her absence, being completely devoted to whatever duties Chancellor Jaha asked of her. Honestly, she probably spent more time with him than with her own daughter.

Clarke knew how to stay calm. She knew how to hide her true emotions under a carefully crafted mask. But today, she was ready to hit that cup of coffee straight out of Abby’s hand and show the curious Ark staff just how crazy the Vice Chancellor’s “perfect” daughter was.

To be fair, it had already been a pretty shitty day so far and it wasn’t even noon.

First, Clarke had slept through her 8:00 am alarm after pulling an all-nighter to finish her latest art piece. Being woken up by an annoyed security guard telling her she had 10 minutes until her appointment was not her ideal start to the day. The security guard had thankfully made no effort at small talk as he escorted her through the halls. She had been grateful for the silence as it gave her the time to collect her thoughts before they were going to be probed at by Kane.

Abby had recommended Dr. Kane a few months ago, claiming that he could help Clarke deal with her grief. Originally, Clarke had completely refused. The idea that a stranger could walk in to her life and get rid of the overwhelming sadness and anger that smothered her every minute of every day, was laughable. But after a long week of screaming matches, she had been willing to compromise. Instead of seeing him everyday, her appointments were every Thursday; which explained her new-found hatred for Thursdays. Today’s meeting, just like every other meeting, had started with Kane asking her about her nightmares. Like always, she told him that her nightmares had disappeared after their first session. And like always, she could tell he didn’t believe her. Still, she kept her face neutral as he scribbled away in his tiny notebook, which she was sure would be in the hands of Abby after the session. After a pain-staking session full of answering uncomfortable questions with one word answers, blankly nodding her way through a lecture on the importance of fixing her relationship with Abby, and refusing to give Kane any new information for him to over-analyze, she had walked out of the room without so much as a goodbye and had headed straight for the kitchen.

Unlike Abby, who loved to take all of her meals with Chancellor Jaha in the pristine dining room as they discussed their campaigns and ratings, Clarke preferred eating in the busy kitchen. The bustling energy of the bright room combined with the mouth-watering smells coming from the ovens always comforted her. Other than her room, it was the only place in the Ark she would call “homey”.

However, it seemed like she wouldn’t even be allowed this one small comfort in this already horrible day. One of Abby’s many assistants had cornered Clarke on her way towards the elevator and informed her that her mother required her presence in the study. Clarke had desperately tried to come up with excuses, and had even thought about bribing the assistant, but found it was no use. The assistant would not budge and neither would Abby.

That is how Clarke found herself where she was now - standing in Abby's study on a bleak Thursday morning, with her restraint slowly slipping away. The conversation had started off pleasant, but had quickly turned ugly when Abby decided that the room full of campaign workers wasn’t going to stop her from commenting on how ugly Clarke’s shirt was, and how “a bit more makeup” would make her look so much prettier. Clarke was used to comments like this, but then she started bringing up her dad.

“Your father would be so disappointed to see you like this Clarke. We both knew how great you could become, and now look at you - 19 years old with no job, no degree, and no connections.”

Clarke curled her hands into a fist, desperately trying to keep her temper under control. She was always angry, angry about her family, angry about her life (or lack there-of); but she hadn’t felt this angry in a while. Unlike the usual steady anger that had shifted into cold numbness, this anger flared up red-hot. It felt like the anger could consume her, and she was tempted to let it. Instead, she squared back her shoulders.

“Don’t pretend you know what Dad would’ve felt. You think he would be disappointed with _me_? I wasn’t the one who killed him.”

Abby shot up from where she had been sitting behind her desk, all traces of her cold exterior gone. “You are my daughter Clarke! You don’t get to speak to me with that attitude. And how dare you accuse me of such a preposterous thing- he was my husband! I loved him.”

She quickly scanned the room as she was saying this, and visibly relaxed once she saw that her employees were still focused on their work. Clarke began to back up as the woman started walking towards her, but not quite quick enough to avoid Abby’s manicured talons latching on to her shoulders. Abby gave her a sickly sweet smile, one that to outsiders may look comforting. But Clarke saw the cruelness behind it.

“ _Sweetie_ , I know that you’re still grieving from your father’s death. But you have to come to terms with the reality: it was a horrible accident. It’s been a year since the car wreck… he would’ve wanted you to move on.” She tightened her grip on Clarke’s shoulders, her nails digging painfully into Clarke’s pale skin causing her to flinch. Abby looked at her daughter and her eyes flashed with a sinister look of warning.

_Don’t test me._

Clarke’s anger flickered out, and was replaced with the heavy numbness she had grown accustomed to. She could still feel the outrage simmering below the surface, but she was too tired to continue this fight.

“Okay.”

The brave young girl who would’ve never stood down was long gone. She had died along with her father.

* * *

Octavia found Clarke an hour later, staring vacantly at the wall from her burrow of blankets. She studied the blonde’s face, trying to see if she had heard Octavia enter the room, but didn’t notice any change in her blank expression. “Clarke? What’s wrong?”

Clarke blinked in surprise, suddenly realizing that Octavia was standing beside her bed. “Oh, hey Octavia. I didn’t know it was your shift yet”, she said as she sat up, stretching a kink out of her neck. Octavia’s cleaning shift technically started at one, but she always met up with Clarke early so that they could hang out before her duties dragged her away. It was one of the few moments of companionship Clarke got, and she always looked forward to it.

Octavia sat down beside her and Clarke wrapped her blanket around the two of them so that they were burrowed together. A part of Clarke was always surprised with how comfortable she felt around Octavia, given that the brunette was so outgoing and energetic compared to her own mellowness. Octavia sighed. “So, what did your bitch of a mom do this time?” Clarke couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, always pleasantly surprised by the spitfire girl she had befriended. “Just the usual: talking about how much of a disappointment I am, how I’ll never accomplish anything, you know the spiel.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Oh you mean the one that goes: _you bring shame to the family name! When will you find yourself a nice lawyer boy and start pushing out babies_?” They looked at each other and Clarke started laughing hysterically at Octavia’s poor impression of her mother.

“Are you trying to be Abby or a hyena?” She said between her giggles. Octavia joined in her laughter and soon they were both bent over, ribs hurting from laughing so hard.

It was moments like these when Clarke almost felt like a normal nineteen year old. When she almost forgot that her dad was dead and that her mom hated her almost more then Clarke hated herself.

Octavia sighed and stood up. “Seriously though, are you ok? You know that if you asked I would go and beat her up for you right? Screw my job!”

Clarke chuckled. “Octavia, you can’t beat up the Vice Chancellor for me, even if she _is_ the worst person on earth. I can’t have my only friend go to jail.”

Octavia opened her mouth, ready to object, but Clarke kept going. “I’m fine, really. I’m used to it by now.”

Her friend frowned. “You know it’s ok if you’re not fine, right? Trust me, I know from experience how much damage a shitty parent can do.”

Clarke pushed herself up from the bed as an all too familiar wave of guilt came over her. “I shouldn’t have brought this up. I- I don’t want you to think I’m in any way comparing my situation to yours; that I’m trying to get your pity.” She laughed humorously while wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly feeling on edge.

“God who do I think I am. I’m just being selfish and overreacting and -”

“Clarke!” Octavia interrupted, reaching to grab the blonde’s hands from where they had been curling protectively around herself. “Stop! You’re not being selfish… and you don’t have to apologize - I’m not done so don’t you _dare_ interrupt!” Clarke, who had been ready to argue, froze. “ You need to stop being so harsh on yourself!”

“It’s just,” Clarke began, “It's just that my situation is nothing compared to what you had to go through, so what right do I have to be throwing myself a pity party about it. My mom can just a bit mean sometimes.” Octavia swallowed, and glanced around the room before looking straight into Clarke's eyes. Her gaze was dead serious, which was rare for her.

“Clarke….we both know your mother is more than a bit mean. You don’t have to pretend with me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“She’s a _murderer_ Clarke.”

Clarke closed her eyes, desperately trying to keep the onslaught of memories that rushed forwards at Octavia’s words at bay. She started her inner mantra that usually helped keep her calm.

_It’s ok._

_You’re safe._

_You’re with Octavia._

_It wasn’t your fault._

A sharp voice full of hatred rose above the rest.

_Oh don’t kid yourself Clarke. You know it was your fault._

She recognized it as her own.

_You know that you’re the reason Dad’s dead._

* * *

_She had been returning from a trip to the local park where she had spent the day drawing under the sun, and she remembered feeling only happiness as she laid in the warm grass. Unknown to her, she wouldn’t feel that way for a long time._

_She paused as she passed her dad’s study, and debated knocking on the closed door to let him know she was back. Her fist was raised when she heard his voice. It had sounded weird. Scared._

_“Look, I'm begging you to believe me. Please, I don’t want anyone to die.” Her mind started to race, trying to figure out what her dad was talking about. What did he mean he didn’t want anyone to die? Before she could answer that question, he spoke up again._

_“I have proof. Meet me in the alley at Brooke and Speere in an hour. I’ll give you everything then.” He paused, then began to talk in a voice so quiet that Clarke had to press her ear to the door. “Don’t tell anyone about this until you have the story ready to print.” She heard her dad hang up the phone, and time seemed to freeze as he let out an exhausted sigh. She had never heard something so dejected come from her dad. He was the best Vice Chancellor this country had ever had, and his speeches at Chancellor Jaha’s events were always so optimistic and full of hope. It was one of the things Clarke admired about him the most._

_She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard his footsteps approach the door, and she jumped back just as the knob began to turn. Her dad opened the door and a look of fear flashed over his face when he saw her, but it was quickly masked with a smile. “Clarke! Did you just get back from the park?” She nodded with a smile, and while her mind was still racing with thoughts about what she had heard, her instinct told her not to question her father about it._

_“Well I think you better get ready for dinner. Your mother won’t be happy if you're late again.”. He smiled, and Clarke noticed that he was wearing his coat._

_“Are you missing dinner again Dad?” She asked._

_“I have some business to attend to sweetie but I promise I’ll be at dinner tomorrow - then you can tell me all about the painting you’ve been working on!” His eyes softened and he pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you Clarke. You’re all the best parts of me - you’re strong, brave, kind, smart,”_

_He pulled back and stared into her eyes as though trying to memorize them for the last time._

_“You always use that brilliant mind of yours for good. Promise me you won’t ever stop doing that.” Clarke began to feel worried at his sudden change of tone, but told herself that she was just overreacting like always._

_“I promise Dad.”_

_He smiled, but seemed so lost in thought that she wasn’t sure he had even heard her. After a long moment of heavy silence, he stood up, grabbed his briefcase from where he had placed it on the ground, and told Clarke to hurry on to dinner. She walked away from him with a heavy heartbeat and sweating palms. The clean white walls of the hallway were blinding._

_As she reached the end of the hall, she got the sudden urge to turn back to her father, to run into his arms and beg him not to leave. To tell him she loved him one more time. She whirled around, her mouth opening to yell “Wait!”... and froze._

_The hallway was empty._

_Her father had already left, and she was left alone to deal with the fear that was slowly rising in her chest._

_A few minutes later she arrived at the dining room and explained to her mother that Dad was missing dinner. Her mother seemed angry, more so than usual, and asked her if she knew where he was going. She thought back to the phone call._

_“The alleyway at Brooke and Speere”_

_Her mother gave her a tight smile, told her to start dinner without her, and disappeared from the room._

_Clarke doesn’t remember much else from that night. She can see flashes of sitting alone at the table, pushing around the uneaten food with her fork._

_She hears the sound of a phone ringing_

“Clarke?”

_The sound of her mother’s gasp_

“Clarke can you hear me?”

_Clarke slowly walks to the TV, and turns on the news_

_She reads the headline_

“CLARKE!”

_And everything stops._

________________________________

Clarke shoved the memory away as her mind returned to the present. She shouldn’t have let it get that bad. She looked up and saw a very worried Octavia standing in front of her. “Clarke are you okay? You zoned out there for a bit.” 

Clarke took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm her racing heart. “I’m fine Octavia - I’m just really tired.” She could tell Octavia wasn’t convinced, so she plastered on a reassuring smile. After studying her face for a while longer, Octavia let out a breath. “Ok good because I really didn’t want to have to get security. Those guys are _such_ _buzzkills_.” She started fake gagging and Clarke let her fake smile soften into a real one. 

Octavia always knew what to say.

Clarke couldn’t, wouldn’t, imagine what her life would be like if her father hadn’t hired Octavia shortly before his death. Her mom had objected to hiring someone so young, with Octavia being only eighteen, but part of Clarke could tell that her dad had hoped that having someone around that was her age would be good for her. And he was definitely right. After her dad’s death, Octavia had been the only one that could pull her from her intense grief. They had bonded over the fact that they had both experienced the death of a parent, with Octavia’s mom having died in an explosion a few years earlier. Octavia would arrive early in the morning to check up on her before her cleaning shift, and would stay long into the night after she was done. They became as close as sisters. 

So, it was no surprise that when she learnt that Abby had been behind her father’s death, Octavia had been the first and only person she told. 

______________ 

_It happened a few months after the funeral, and Octavia had stayed over for a sleepover that night. Sleepovers were rare for them, so when they happened the two girls always made the most of it. They had talked all night while painting their nails and watching trashy TV, and Octavia had even convinced her to download a dating app for fun. After going through a few guys, Clarke decided to go grab some snacks from the kitchen. She was so lost in her thoughts about how she hadn’t been this at peace since her dad died, that she had almost missed the quiet whispers of her mother coming from her closed office._

_Almost._

_Clarke stopped and curiously put her ear against the door, eager to catch bits of the conversation. Unwillingly, her mind flashed back to another time where she had been in this exact position, but she pushed that away and focused on what she was hearing._

_“Abby, if the media catches on to what we did, we’re ruined.” Chancellor Jaha’s voice was uncharacteristically aggressive. She had always known the Chancellor as the kind friend of Dad. Other than her and her mother, he had been the most devastated by the death of Jake._

_Her mother started speaking. “They won’t catch on. Nobody knew where he was going other than us, and we made sure that the journalist he was meeting was taken care of. There are no loose ends.”_

_Jaha let out a sigh. “Thank god that Clarke told you where he was going. If he had been successful in leaking that information this country would’ve descended into chaos.”_

_He paused. “You did the right thing Abby. Jake wasn’t in his right mind; he would’ve wanted you to protect his legacy. OUR legacy.”_

_Clarke was shaking at this point, trying desperately to wrap her head around what she was hearing. This couldn’t be happening - her mom would never hurt her dad. Right? A few minutes ago, Clarke could’ve confidently answered that question._

_Now, she wasn’t so sure._

_“Not to worry Thelonius - I don’t regret killing Jake.”_

_Clarke’s stomach dropped and her vision began to blur._

_No, no, no. This can’t be happening, this has to be a nightmare. She’s not here right now, and she didn’t just hear her mother confess to killing her dad._

_Suddenly, the denial was replaced with anger so intense that it overtook her whole mind. Before she could think twice, she lept forward and slammed the door open. Her chest heaved like a wild animal as she stood in the doorway._

_Clarke looked wildly around the room until her eyes landed on the shell-shocked face of her mother. She saw her mother start to move towards her but she stopped, her lips moving as she said something._

_Clarke didn’t hear her._

_She couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the shocked rage that engulfed her. Her mother continued to speak, probably trying to make up some explanation. She didn’t care though._

_This person standing in front of her was not her mother._

_Not anymore._

_Clarke took a deep breath, looked the woman straight in the eye, and whispered “I’m gonna end you.” Then, she walked out of the room and made herself wait until she rounded the corner before she started running ._

_By the time she got back to her room, she was in hysterics. It took Octavia almost an hour to coax the story out of her. Once she understood what had happened, she was horrified, and wanted to call the police. But by that time Clarke had begun to calm down enough to know that she didn’t have enough proof to go to the media or police, and that trying to expose her mother now would fail._

_So she and Octavia made a pact. They would tell no one until they were sure they had enough information to succeed. Then, Clarke would finally see her mother behind bars._

___________

It had been almost a year since that night, and they had made no progress. Abby kept a close watch on Clarke, and Clarke didn’t want Octavia to do anything that would risk her being fired. Still, they often fantasized about a time when they would finally get justice for Clarke’s father. The possibility that they might not succeed was unacceptable, but that didn’t stop Clarke from worrying that her promise may remain unfulfilled. 

“I have to get out of here.” She whispered, more to herself than to Octavia. 

Octavia sighed in agreement. “I know. I promise that one day, we’ll leave this place and never come back.” Octavia continued to study Clarke, and seemed to have an inner debate. After a long moment of stillness, Octavia nodded resolutely to herself. 

“Okay that’s it. I should’ve done this ages ago but better late than never.”

Clarke looked up at her in confusion. What was she talking about?

Octavia continued. “I’m doing this because I trust you. But in order for this to work, you have to trust me.” 

Clarke didn’t hesitate. “You know that you’re the _only_ person I trust Octavia.”

It was true. Octavia was the only bit of warmth left in Clarke’s isolated life. 

“Okay.” Octavia looked around, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. 

“Here’s the plan….” 

________________________________

The escape had sounded impossible, but it had surprisingly worked. After pushing herself through her bathroom window (which was thankfully on the first floor) and meeting up with Octavia by the secret hole in the south fence that they had discovered, Clarke was out. She didn’t allow herself to get too overjoyed with her momentarily freeness though; she still had no idea where Octavia was taking her, and the doubts began to overtake the adrenaline as she followed her through a dark alley.

She shook them off. This was Octavia. She trusted her more than anyone in the world.

Clarke let out a breath, and quickened her pace to keep up with her friend. After walking for what seemed like forever, Octavia stopped and grabbed Clarke by the shoulders. 

“Clarke, this is going to sound crazy but I need you to trust me okay?” Clarke nodded, unsure of what she was trying to say. Octavia stared into her blue eyes, then grabbed something from her back pack. A bandana. 

“Octavia what’s going -”

“You’ll understand soon I promise. But for now, I’m gonna have to blindfold you.” She gave Clarke an apologetic smile and before Clarke could ask anymore questions, the blindfold was put over her eyes. After it was on, Clarke blindly grasped around for Octavia’s hand, and felt a tight squeeze once she found it. Octavia acted as her guide for a few minutes, rambling as she walked.

“- and I know this is _so_ stupid and you’re probably freaking out right now but Bell would be so mad if -”

“Bell?” Clarke asked as Octavia stopped, not having heard her quiet question. 

“We’re here.” Clarke felt Octavia grabbed on to her shoulders again. “It’d be better for both of us if you let me do the talking, yeah?” Clarke nodded, but she was only half listening to her. Her mind was going a million miles an hour as she tried to piece together what was going on. She felt Octavia lead her down some steps, and heard the sound of her knocking echo through the empty alley. 

It was silent. 

Then, a gruff voice emerged from the other side of the door. 

“What’s your business.” 

Octavia let out a huff. “C’mon Miller. Are you _seriously_ gonna make me use the stupid password?” 

Clarke heard the guy, Miller, sigh. “I have my orders Octavia. You know how he is about these things.” Octavia groaned. “Ugh fine… " _Ai laik Okteivia kom Skaikru en ai gaf gouthru klir._ " 

Clarke’s brow creased with confusion. Whatever language Octavia had just spoken, Clarke had never heard anything like it before. 

The door creaked as it opened, and the brisk night air turned warm as she was pushed through the doorway. She heard harsh whispers from behind her. Miller and Octavia sounded like they were arguing about something. With a start, Clarke realized they were arguing about her. She stood there awkwardly - if only she wasn’t wearing the blindfold, she could figure out what was going on.

The whispered argument came to an end, and she felt unfamiliar hands grab her arms and try to lead her forward. She flinched and stayed put. 

“Don’t worry Clarke”, Octavia whispered to her, “Once I explain everything to them, they’ll trust you.” 

She paused. 

“Hopefully.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: homophobic parent / pls read notes for an important message.

It had been twenty minutes since Clarke had been sat down in a cold metal chair, and left alone to her thoughts. Or at least, she was pretty sure she was alone. Her hands had been tied to the chair and the blindfold was still on, so she had been forced to rely on her sense of hearing. And right now, the only thing she could hear was the screaming match happening in the other room. 

She recognized Octavia’s voice as she yelled obscenities in the fierce way that only she could. 

The other voice was a mystery. Like the voice at the door, she could tell it was male. But it wasn’t as loud and fearless as Octavia’s, and Clarke couldn’t make out anything he was saying. 

Still, there were times where if she really strained her ears, she could hear the quiet rasp of his voice. Where Octavia’s voice was full of wildness and spark, his was measured and quiet. The gentle rumble of thunder to Octavia’s lightning. 

The yelling stopped, and Clarke heard the heavy sound of footsteps approaching the door. She sat up, and squared her shoulders back. She knew Octavia would never hurt her; but the longer she spent sitting here, the more she doubted the intentions of Octavia’s companions. 

She flinched when the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a resounding thud. The footsteps came closer and closer until they stopped right in front of her chair. The hairs on her arms stood up, and even though Clarke couldn’t see, she knew she was being studied. The door clicked shut, but this time she was sure she wasn’t alone. The heavy breathing coming from whoever was standing in front of her was proof enough. 

Her blindfold was ripped off, and she squinted as white light flooded her vision. Once her eyes adjusted, she surveyed her surroundings. Namely, the boy looming over her. 

The first thing she noticed was how young he looked. Despite the confident way he held himself, he couldn’t be more than a few years older than her. He was attractive, and weirdly familiar. If this were any other situation, she would’ve probably asked for his number.

But then she noticed the burning contempt in his eyes. Contempt directed at her. 

“So, my sister says you want to help us. Give me one good reason why I should believe that.” He said in a low voice full of warning. He clearly meant business. Clarke raised her chin, putting on a facade of confidence despite the trembling of her hands. 

“Look, I don’t know what you were told, but I have no idea who “us” is.” 

He smirked, clearly not convinced. “I know it comes easy, but don’t play the dumb blonde,  _ princess _ .” She stiffened at the demeaning nickname. “We both know that with a mother like Abby Griffin, you know all about how to manipulate.” 

The boy leaned forwards, placing his hands on each arm of her chair until she was caged in. Her heart stuttered as his eyes burned into her own. “You may be the princess of the Ark, but I don’t take kindly to strangers. Especially strangers that manipulate my sister” he said with quiet fury.

Clarke’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

_ Sister?  _

Suddenly, the familiarity she had felt when she saw him made sense. So  _ this _ was the mysterious Bellamy Blake. 

Octavia rarely talked about her older brother, but Clarke had definitely imagined someone nicer when she had pictured her best friend’s sibling. Still, now that she knew, the resemblance was uncanny. 

“Octavia? I would never -” She began, insulted at the suggestion that she would hurt her only friend. 

“Somehow you convinced her to lead you here. She seems sure that you’ll help us, but refuses to say why.” Bellamy let out a dry chuckle. “She’s always been stubborn.” 

“Wait, hold on. Can you please just explain what’s going on? Who’s this ‘us’ you keep mentioning?” At her question he straightened to his full height, which was considerably taller then Clarke sitting down. 

“Let’s just say that we aren’t too fond of spoiled princesses and their entitled families.”

Clarke felt a hot rush of anger wash over her. Who did this guy think he was? He didn’t even know her, and had already made up his mind about her character. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Well so far I’m not too fond of you either.”

For a brief moment, he looked surprised at the sharpness of her voice, until his expression changed back to one of seriousness. 

“According to Octavia, you despise your mother even more than I do. I find that hard to believe -”

“-  _ Don't _ _call her my mother_.” Bellamy seemed taken aback by her interruption but she continued. “The mother I knew died along with my father. The woman left in her place is a monster.” 

She looked up into his eyes, her face dead serious. 

“And I’m going to ruin her. Even if it’s the last thing I do. So don’t stand there and assume that you know my story; your opinion doesn’t change anything.” 

The small room was silent as he stared into her eyes, and a tense moment passed until he tore his gaze away with a grunt. 

“If, and I’m saying  _ if _ , I believe that you're on our side, I still can’t just let you into the fold right away. You’re going to have to prove your loyalty.” 

Clarke shook her head, still lost as to what he was talking about. “Loyalty to  _ what _ ?” 

Bellamy cocked his head to the side, and she was momentarily distracted by the way his mop of curls danced around his face. “Aww c’mon princess. Don’t tell me you haven't figured it out”, he said as a crooked grin spread over his face. 

“Welcome to the Delinquents.” 

* * *

Clarke shook her head in disbelief. “No, no way. The Delinquents are one of the biggest terrorists groups in this country…” Bellamy scowled at the word terrorist. 

“...Octavia would never involve herself in that.”

“- You don’t know my sister as much as you think then. She’s been part of the Delinquents for longer than I have. And we are  _ not  _ terrorists; we’re a  _ resistance _ . You wanna see real terrorists?” His nostrils flared with anger. “Just take a look around your precious Ark.” 

Clarke scoffed. “You don’t have to convince me. How many times do I have to tell you, no matter how much you hate them, I can guarantee I hate them more.”

“Why?”, asked Bellamy in annoyance, with a hint of genuine curiosity. “Octavia said as much but neither she or you will explain.” 

He bent down so that their faces were level. “What would cause a princess to hate her castle?” 

She leaned forwards as much as she could, matching his attempt at intimidation. 

“The Ark might look like a fairytale from the outside, but trust me, it’s not. I’m no princess, so don’t waste your time pretending I am.” 

Blue eyes stared into brown.

Bellamy let out a quiet chuckle, and Clarke stiffened as she felt his warm breath tickle her nose, not having realized how close their faces were. She leaned back into the chair and blew at a blonde hair that had fallen into her face. Bellamy stayed where he was, only straightening when she continued to avoid eye contact, exhausted by whatever game they had been playing.

The door slammed open, and Octavia rushed in like a storm bent on wrecking havoc. 

For the first time, Bellamy looked caught off guard. He turned to face Octavia, started speaking in a considerably softer voice. 

“O, I thought I told you to wait outside. You’ve already put yourself in enough danger- “

“Well  _ I _ thought I told you that Clarke could be trusted, but you clearly didn’t listen to that.” Octavia exhaled in anger and pushed past her brother, crouching in front of Clarke with guilt in her eyes. 

“Clarke I’m so sorry that my  _ idiot _ of a brother can’t relax for one second. I had no idea he was going to turn this into a whole,” she waved her hand in the air, “a whole interrogation thing.” 

Bellamy stepped forward and cleared his throat. “She’s a Griffin, you can’t expect me to trust her.”

Clarke opened her mouth to defend herself but Octavia beat her to it, whipping her head around to face her older sibling. “She may be a Griffin, but she's also my best friend! Can’t you look past your ego for one second and see how much she could help us.” 

He had the decency to look a bit embarrassed, but his scowl came back in full force when he locked eyes with Clarke. She scowled back until Octavia’s fake cough broke the moment.

“Clarke, I think you and I should probably talk.” She glared at Bellamy. “ _ Privately. _ ”

Clarke agreed. Her conversation with Bellamy had left her with more questions than answers. Why was Octavia involved in the Delinquents? Why had she brought her here? One question stuck in her mind for the longest; Was her friendship with Clarke just a rouse? 

The very thought made Clarke feel sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t get it out of her head as she watched Bellamy stomp out of the room and shut the door behind him with a resounding bang. 

Clarke looked up at her closest friend, desperate for answers. The brunette hurried over to Clarke’s chair, and began untying the ropes binding Clarke’s hands. They were off in a matter of seconds, and Clarke began massaging her sore wrists while Octavia sat down on the cold floor in front of her chair. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions right now. Before I answer them: what did Bellamy tell you?” 

Clarke’s foot started bouncing. “Well, he - he said that you’re part of the Delinquents. Is that true?”

Octavia nodded.

This wasn’t the first time Clarke had heard about the Delinquents. She had witnessed many of Abby’s anger-fueled rants about them and their “stupid stunts”. The biggest had been a few months ago; they had leaked the email records of Diana Sydney, a politician who Clarke had been forced to sit through many dinners with, and exposed her for corruption. Abby and Jaha had been put into a frenzy, and for a week the number one priority had been tracking the hackers. But they had never been able to pinpoint the location, so no arrests were made. 

Clarke had silently celebrated, happy to see them fail for once. 

“I joined when I was sixteen, two years before I met you. I was young and so angry at the world. The Delinquents took me in, gave me a way to channel that anger and do some good. When Bell found out he went ballistic. He’s always been overprotective of me.” 

Clearly, Clarke thought, thinking back to how suspicious he had been about her and Octavia’s friendship. 

Octavia kept speaking. “So he figured that the best way to keep an eye on me was to join himself. I don't think he predicted how attached he would become to the cause, but he slowly started moving up the ranks. When the old leader left, Bell was unanimously voted in.”

“Wait hold on,” Clarke said, eyes growing in disbelief, “are you telling me that your brother, the brother I just talked to, is the _head_ _of the Delinquents_?” 

Octavia let out a small laugh while her hands fidgeted in her lap. “It sounds crazy I know.” 

“Octavia, this whole thing is crazy!” Suddenly, an idea popped into Clarke’s head and she gasped. “Oh my god. This is how we take down Abby and Jaha.”

“Yes! That’s why I brought you here Clarke! I wanted to tell you so long ago but I was always worried that you would freak out. Ugh it feels so good not having to keep this from you anymore.” Octavia exclaimed, voice full of relief and excitement. Clarke bit her lip.

“Does that mean...that we really are friends? You weren’t pretending just to get information or - “

Octavia shot up to her feet with a look of horror. “Is that what you think Clarke! Oh my god  _ no _ !” She paused.

“To be honest, I did go into the cleaning job with the intent of gathering intel on Jaha. But I never got close enough and eventually Bell wanted me to quit but...but I couldn’t. Because I couldn’t leave behind my best friend.” 

Clarke felt herself tear up, overwhelmed with the knowledge that her friendship wasn’t fake. Octavia took her hand and held it tightly. 

“And I kept our oath! I haven’t told anyone about what Abby did - that’s why my brother doesn’t believe me. But I just know that if you two combine forces, you can finally bring justice for your father and destroy Abby and Jaha.” 

Clarke tearfully nodded, and leapt up to wrap Octavia in a hug. There were so many emotions flowing through her right now. Relief that she hadn’t lost her only friend, gratitude towards Octavia for trusting her enough to bring her here, and satisfaction. Satisfaction in knowing that Jaha and Abby’s demise was coming. And it was coming fast. 

* * *

Bellamy returned to the room a few moments later, accompanied by Miller, who she learned was the boy she had heard when she first arrived. Bellamy frowned when he saw her untied hands, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, O’s right. Having you as an inside-man could be the final push we need to take down the Ark. But before I let you into the group, you have to prove your loyalty.” He lowered his voice. “And trust me...if it turns out you’re a mole, you’re going to wish that you never left your precious Ark. Got that?”

Clarke crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders. “Good thing that’s never going to happen, since I’m  _ not _ a mole. Whatever task you want me to do, I’ll do it.” 

Miller approached Bellamy from behind, and whispered, “Bellamy are you sure this is necessary? She seems pretty legit to me.” 

Bellamy listened, his eyes never leaving hers. “If the princess is too scared to get her hands dirty then she shouldn’t have come.”

Octavia let out a sound of indignation from behind her. “I already said I’d do it,” Clarke said coldly “so stop stalling and get to the point.” 

She was sick of people underestimating her. She already had to deal with it from her mother and countless politicians; she refused to put up with it from Bellamy. It was almost unbelievable how quickly she had grown to hate him. 

She was reminded why that was when she saw the infuriating smirk on Bellamy’s face as he began to describe her mission. 

The objective was to plant a bug in Jaha’s office. The Delinquents would then be able to listen in to every meeting, every conversation that the Chancellor had. Clarke could only imagine how much information would be discovered. Maybe they would find something about her father. 

For anyone other than Clarke, the mission would be impossible. But being the Vice-Chancellor's daughter had some perks, in this case having access to the Chancellor's office. Sounded easy enough. 

“Is that it?” Clarke asked, surprised at how simple it sounded. 

Bellamy nodded. “That’s it....” Clarke exhaled, less worried then she had been. 

“Except for one small catch: I’ll be in your ear the whole time.”

“ _Excuse_ _me_?” Clarke exclaimed, brows furrowing. 

Bellamy stalked towards her until he was looming over her where she still sat, spine straight as a rod. 

“You don’t really expect me to trust that you won’t sell us out the second you can, do you?” He said in his low rumble of a voice. 

Clarke felt her face go hot, entirely with anger at his assumption. It had nothing to do with his closeness and his stupid voice and annoying eyes and…..

Octavia thankfully interrupted her line of thought before it got too traitorous. “How many times do I have to tell you she’s on our side before you believe it!”

“I’ll believe it once she’s planted the bug. And once I make sure that she doesn’t pull any tricks while she does it.” 

He stared at Clarke with a fiery intensity similar to the one she had often seen on Octavia. She lifted her chin, intent on keeping her annoyment hidden; No way was she gonna let him know that he had gotten to her.

“Sounds fair enough.” Clarke said. 

Bellamy studied her for a moment more, then turned away. “It’s getting late; we should return the princess before they notice she’s gone.” 

“Don’t worry Clarke, I’ll walk you back.” Octavia said. 

“No way O. It’s too late for you to go out, and you’ll draw suspicion if you're seen at the Ark at this hour.” Bellamy gestured towards Miller, who had spent the later half of the conversation observing from the corner. “Miller will walk her back.” 

Clarke stiffened. “I can walk myself back.” It wasn’t that she had anything against Miller, she just didn’t like the idea of needing someone to supervise her. Especially someone she didn’t know. 

“No can do, princess”, Bellamy said resolutely. “I’m not gonna risk our biggest asset being hurt because she insisted on walking home alone. Anyways, you don’t even know where we are right now.” 

Clarke hated to admit it but he was right. She had no idea how to get back to the Ark, and would probably be lost within ten minutes. Still, she wasn’t going to tell him that. So instead, she focused on another part of what he had said. “Biggest asset huh?” she said in a cheeky tone. 

Bellamy turned his head to look at her. “Don’t push it Griffin”, he said with a seriousness that she almost believed. 

Then, he stalked out the door without so much as a proper goodbye. His sister was more polite, and gave Clarke a big hug with the promise to see her soon, before she disappeared after her brother. 

The walk back with Miller had been peaceful, and by the time they had arrived at the Ark she had grown to like the friendly teenager. Why a guy like him was so loyal to an asshole like Bellamy was a mystery to her. 

Miller left her at the fence, and watched as she pulled herself back through her bathroom window. The next thing she knew, she was lying comfortably in bed. Her mind was full of thoughts, and she was sure that it would take hours until she was calm enough to sleep. 

But it only took a few minutes until her adrenaline changed into exhaustion, and sleep tugged her eyelids closed. 

* * *

Images swirled through her mind as she slept, appearing then disappearing before she could grab hold of them. 

She saw Octavia look back and laugh as she led her through a dark alley, saw Abby being led away in handcuffs. 

In the distance, her father called her name. 

She raced towards him. 

Clarke kept running, even when the voice lowered a few octaves, and became filled less with love and more with contempt. 

_ Wake up princess.  _

The voice softened. 

_ Wake up.  _

Clarke woke with a gasp, and uncurled her hands from where they had been clutching her sheet. She tried to go back to sleep, but to no avail; she couldn’t get the burning image of two cruel dark eyes out of her head. 

* * *

The next few days passed by in a blur. Clarke tried to keep herself as busy as possible with her art, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasy anticipation. 

Octavia had warned her that it might be a while until she could smuggle the bug and earpiece past the guards; still, Clarke woke every morning with the thought that today could be the day. The beginning of the end of Abby and Jaha’s reign. 

Just when Clarke felt she couldn’t wait any longer, Octavia slipped into her room one morning and passed her the bug and earpiece. She explained that the earpiece would connect to Bellamy at 4:00 pm, and that would be when Clarke would sneak into Jaha’s office. The Delinquents somehow got a copy of his schedule, so they knew that Jaha would be out on business. 

After making sure that Clarke was clear on what the plan was, Octavia left for her shift. 

They had been trying to limit how much time they spent together in order to avoid suspicion, and while it worked, Clarke really missed her best friend. Clarke allowed herself to feel sad for a moment, then shook those thoughts away. She had to focus on the task at hand.

Today was a test, and one that she had to pass if she ever wanted justice. 

She followed her regular morning routine despite the growing nerves in the pit of her stomach. She painted, watched some TV, ate lunch in the kitchen, and even worked out in the gym. 

Finally, 4:00 rolled around and Clarke was back in her room, eagerly awaiting the activation of the earpiece in her ear. She sat on the edge of her bed and fiddled with her hands. 

She waited. 

And she waited. 

Suddenly, she heard static and she jumped up. 

“Hello?” She asked. “Can you hear me?” 

The static slowly quieted and a faint voice rose in volume, until the static was gone and she could hear the voice clearly. 

“You there, Griffin?” Bellamy asked. 

“Yeah. Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” There was a pause of silence, then, 

“You have the bug?”

Clarke huffed. “I’m fine Bellamy, thanks for asking!” She said sarcastically.

She could practically hear Bellamy’s eye roll. “Sorry for not wasting time with the small talk princess. I know you're used to people actually caring about your day.”

“It’s called  _ politeness _ and yeah, I am used to it.” 

“Look, do you have the bug or not?”

Clarke nodded, briefly forgetting that he couldn’t see her. 

“Yeah, I have it.” She answered when she realized her mistake. Her fingers curled around the small device that was hidden in her hoodie pocket. 

Bellamy sighed, with what could be either relief or annoyance. “Good. How long will it take you to get to Jaha’s office?” 

Clarke thought for a minute. It would be quicker to walk directly to Jaha’s office, but her gut told her to take the long way. “Normally it would take 2 minutes, but it’s going to take 10 if I take the long way to avoid suspicion.”

“Good thinking.” Bellamy responded quietly. She could tell he hated to give the compliment, and that made it feel even better. 

“I’m leaving my room now so I won’t be able to talk much. I’ll update you when I get to the office.” 

She combed her hair down over her ears, and after checking in the mirror one last time to make sure the device was hidden, she opened the door and walked out as casually as she could.

Clarke made herself walk slowly through the halls with an air of nonchalance. Still, the nerves that had been growing all morning were practically overwhelming her at this point. 

Her walk stuttered as she saw a guard enter the hall and walk in her direction. 

She turned her head.

“There’s a guard coming.” She whispered nervously. She looked up and saw that the guard was still walking towards her at a steady pace. 

“Stay calm okay? Just keep walking.” Bellamy said, and Clarke appreciated the slightly reassuring tone. 

She kept her head high as the guard approached, and curled her hand into a fist around the bug. 

20 feet

10 feet. 

She held her breath as the guard passed, and didn’t look back until she was at the other end of the hall. She exhaled with relief, and thought she heard a similar sigh from the earpiece. “He’s gone.” She whispered. 

“Good. Now, keep going until you're at the office.” 

Clarke walked in silence. The hand not tightly curled around the bug was still shaking from her encounter with the guard, and she shoved it into her pocket. 

Now was not the time to be weak. 

She continued to walk, and unconsciously relaxed as she listened to the sound of Bellamy’s breathing. Soon, her breathing had synced up to his. 

When she realized what she had done, she felt a wave of embarrassment and purposely changed her breathing rate. She decided to ignore the wave of heat that flooded her face, and chalked the whole thing up to nerves.  She turned corner after corner until she finally arrived at Jaha's office. After quickly surveying the hallway to make sure she wouldn’t be seen, Clarke opened the door and darted in. She let out a breath after softly shutting the wooden door. 

“I’m in.”

“Good job. Now, take the bug and put it someone it won’t be found.” 

Clarke looked around the room, trying to find a spot that the bug could hide and still pick up conversations.  She spotted a small bookshelf in the corner, and hurried over to it. With careful fingers, she pulled back one of the books and stuck the bug to it. “The bug’s in the place.” 

“Good.” Bellamy said as she rearranged the books so that they looked inconspicuous, then went to leave the office. 

She opened the door and creeped out of the office into the hallway. The nerves she had been feeling all day were slowly vanishing as she realized she had done it. She had completed the mission, and hopefully earned Bellamy's trust. 

She turned the corner, and instantly wished she hadn’t. 

“Clarke? What are you doing down here?”

Abby’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked towards her. 

“ _ Shit _ .” Clarke whispered under her breath, quiet enough that Abby didn’t hear but loud enough for Bellamy. 

“What? What is it?” Bellamy quickly asked, worry coating his voice. Not for her, she assumed, but for the mission.  _ Obviously _ . 

Clarke wracked her brain, trying to find a suitable excuse for her mother’s question. “Just taking a walk, Abby.” 

Bellamy let out a curse when he heard her name. 

Abby was right in front of her now, and Clarke resisted the urge to make sure her hair was in front of her ear as the woman stared her down.  Clarke began to move around her, desperate to get out of there. “Well, nice talking with you! Bye!”

A manicured hand shot out and pulled her back by the arm. Clarke couldn’t stop the yelp of pain she let out as her mother’s fingernails dug into her skin. 

“What was that? _Answer me_ _Griffin_.” Bellamy questioned frantically, but she couldn’t risk responding. 

“Sweetie”, Abby began in a sharp tone, “Dr. Kane told me that you haven’t been as receptive to his therapy sessions as he would expect you to be.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, all worries about the bug gone. It was clear to her that Abby wasn’t a threat to the mission, and was only interested in controlling Clarke’s personal life.  “I just don’t have anything to talk to him about. I’ve already told you, I don’t need a therapist.”

Abby let out a bitter laugh. “ _ Don’t need a therapist -  _ that’s absurd, Clarke. Let’s be honest. You’re damaged. You don’t have a job, you don’t go to any of my functions, you don’t have a boyfriend -”

“I don’t have a job because you don’t let me have a life!” Clarke exclaimed with anger. 

Abby continued.  “-and don’t even get me started on your  _ delusions _ about being bisexual!”

Her words echoed through the empty hallway as Clarke’s mouth gaped in shock.

“Kane assured me that if given the chance, he could change your mind, but only if you actually participate in sessions! Which you haven't!”

In the back of her mind, Clarke was freaking out that Bellamy was hearing all of this. But the rest of her was too in shock to care.  She had never outright told Abby her sexuality, but after going on a few dates with a girl before her father’s death, the word had gotten around. 

Abby had dropped hints that she disapproved, but she had never been so blatant about it. 

“...Is that what this is all about? The only reason you send me to therapy is because you want me to be  _ straight _ ?!” 

Her mother’s silence spoke loud enough. Clarke let out a bitter laugh, and racked her hand through her hair. “God, this whole time I thought you were worried about me spilling the truth about Dad...”

Abby grabbed Clarke’s face, effectively stopping her from finishing her sentence. “Here you go again Clarke,” she said in a menacing whisper. “Always blaming everyone but yourself.  _ You’re _ the one who let him go on the business trip. You keep placing the blame on me, on Jaha, but you could’ve stopped him from leaving.” Abby smiled a sickly fake smile. 

“If you’re looking for who caused Dad’s death, just look in the mirror.” She released Clarke’s face and straightened her blouse. “I have a meeting to go to. Don’t make me have this conversation with you again.” 

Clarke didn’t move, even after the sound of her mother’s heels faded away into the distance. Hot tears ran down her face but she didn’t go to wipe them away. Her mind just kept replaying Abby’s words. 

_ Always blaming everyone but yourself… _

Abby couldn’t imagine how wrong she was. How many nights Clarke had cried herself to sleep as the guilt squeezed her stuttering heart.  Abby hadn’t said anything Clarke hadn’t already told herself. 

Still, hearing the words come from someone else somehow made them hurt a thousand times more than any physical wound could. 

“Clarke….” She flinched as she heard Bellamy softly whisper her name. It was the first time he had ever used it.

“I’m guessing you heard all of that.” She whispered bitterly. “Do you see now why I hate her so much?” Clarke leaned her back against the wall, and slowly slid down until she was on the floor, arms hugging her knees. 

“Look...I don’t know if Octavia told you but we’ve had our fair share of horrible parents. My dad wasn’t accepting of me being bisexual either -“ his voice broke off with a start as though he had just realized how much personal information he had shared. Still, Clarke felt her tears come to a slow as she was comforted by the knowledge that he had gone through something similar. 

Who would’ve thought that she and him had so much in common. 

“I’m so  _ embarrassed _ ; God, you shouldn’t have had to hear that.” Suddenly, a thought popped into her head and she gasped.  “What if Abby saw me come out of the office and she goes back and finds the bug and I’ve ruined the whole mission and -“ Her chest started to rise and fall quickly as she felt herself begin to hyperventilate. But all she could think about was the possibility that she had ruined everything. Like she always did. 

“Hey, hey,  _ hey _ \-  _ Clarke!  _ You need to take some deep breaths ok? I can’t have you passing out.”

Clarke did as she was told, and used the sound of Bellamy’s breathing to pace her own. 

“You didn’t mess up anything, okay? The bug is in the office, and you’ve proved that you're loyal. It all went to plan.” 

Her anxiety ebbed away as she listened to his calm voice, and she wished that she could have him in her ear like this all day. She shook her head as she realized how silly that thought was.  _ God _ , what had happened to the asshole that she had hated less than an hour ago? At least for him, her feelings were clear and simple. This new, softer side of Bellamy, not so much.  “Thanks Bellamy.” She whispered. After a brief moment of silence, she pushed herself to her feat and smoothed down her shirt. 

“Now that the mission's over, we should probably deactivate the ear piece. I'm just going to walk back to my room, so….”

“Um yeah...that makes sense.” He paused. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“No. But I will be soon.”

“That’s all any of us can hope for.” He said sombrely. Clarke got the feeling that he understood more than anyone how hard being okay really was.  She reached up to pull out her earpiece. 

“Hey,” Bellamy said, somehow sounding soft and insistent at the same time. Her hand stilled. 

“You did good, Princess.” 

She felt herself go warm all over, as though the compliment was a warm blanket that shielded her from a cold wind. She smiled, a wide unchained smile. It’s been since she had last smiled like that.

“I’ll talk to you soon Griffin. Until then, stay safe.”

“Goodbye Bellamy.” She said, equally soft. Before she could think twice about it, she pulled the earpiece from her ear and dropped it on the ground. Following Octavia’s instructions from earlier, she crushed it with her heel and then gathered up the pieces, before tucking them into her pocket, which was where they would stay until she could safely dispose of them. 

The walk back to her room was a quiet and lonely one. Still, even after Clarke exhaustedly collapsed on her bed, her mind couldn’t stop replaying the day's events. She thought back to her conversation with Bellamy. 

_ You did good princess.  _

A smile tugged at her lips. It might’ve been her imagination, but the term didn’t sound as insulting as it used to. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! I really hope you liked the new chapter, I worked really hard on it! 
> 
> In light of the accusations against Bob and Eliza, I felt I should say something. I will always believe an abuse accusation until the accused proves their innocence, because the facts are that most accusations are true. Because of this, for now I will no longer support Bob and Eliza. However, I think that (however hard it may be) it is possible to separate the actors from the characters. I love Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake, and I look up to them a lot in the show. Although I don't support the actors, I will continue to love the characters. Because of this, I will be continuing this fanfic. However, I know that there are many people who may need to take a break from the fandom, and just know that you have my support <3 love you all  
> -K


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: brief description of blood and injury

Despite what Octavia had promised her the night before her first meeting, the Delinquents had understandably been wary to trust her at first. She spent the majority of the meeting tucked away in the corner, only coming out when Bellamy called her up to formally introduce her to the group and detail the information they were receiving from the bug she had planted. Once he was done and the conversation shifted to some other item of business, she quickly retreated back to her corner, and spent the rest of the night plastering on fake smiles whenever Octavia was near and quietly listening to the conversations buzzing around her. 

Miller walked her back to the ARK that night, and she couldn’t help but feel dejected. How could she help the Delinquents bring down Abby when they didn’t trust her enough to give her the time of day? 

“Don’t worry,” Miller assured her when she shared her concerns, “it just takes time for them to warm up to newcomers; and with Bellamy and Octavia on your side, I’m sure it won’t be long.”

To be fair, the knowledge that both the Blakes were championing her case to the other members slightly eased her nerves. 

Still, Clarke couldn’t help but be skeptical that she would ever be fully accepted into the group. After all, she was the daughter of their number one enemy, and other than planting the bug, they had no guarantee that she wasn’t a spy. 

She understood their mistrust, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Thankfully Miller was proven right when she went to another meeting a week later. Although no one was jumping up to give her a hug, she could tell that the atmosphere was less hostile. When she forced herself out of her little corner, she found that people were more willing to discuss Delinquent business in front of her. She even mustered up the courage to speak up about how to improve safety at protests, prompting a covert thumbs up from Octavia. 

Bellamy had scowled, like always, but seemed to actually consider what she had recommended. She felt a flare of confidence overshadow her anxiety and the confidence only increased as she began to meet other Delinquents. 

Jasper and Monty were the first to befriend her. When she first encountered the two young chemists, a flask full of murky liquid had been quickly pushed into her hands, with the promise that she was about to drink the “most brilliant creation” found on Earth: an alcohol heavy drink dubbed ‘Moonshine’. Other than a few glasses of wine and champagne, Clarke wasn’t a big drinker. The thought of anything clouding her judgement and making her vulnerable wasn’t appealing in the slightest.

Still, she had laughed at their exuberant antics, and after a few minutes of persuasion, Clarke lifted the flask to her lips eager to both make friends and to take the edge off. As she gagged down the bitter liquid, her watering eyes landed on Bellamy, and to her surprise found that he was already watching her from across the room. He smirked as she handed the flask back to Jasper, who was busy rambling about the pair’s newest project. It was softer the his usual bitter expression, his brown eyes sparking with amusement. He quirked his eyebrows at her, and she let out a small laugh as he turned back to the brunette that was chatting to him.

Before Clarke could dwell on the unexpected butterflies rising in her stomach, Jasper and Monty linked arms with her and whisked her further into the crowd. 

They introduced her to Raven, who acted as both the lead mechanic and the lead hacker. She had been cold to Clarke at first, but after discovering that they both knew Finn Collins (Raven from childhood and Clarke from a summer abroad), they quickly bonded over how much of a douchebag he was. Tipsy and surrounded by new friends, Clarke ended the night feeling happier then she had in awhile. She felt light, as though the weight of the past year’s trauma was finally beginning to ease off her chest. 

Two busy months had passed since that night, and Clarke had slowly worked her way up to being appointed as the unofficial group medic after Raven discovered that she had interned at a hospital during high school, back when Clarke had still wanted to be a doctor like her mother. She had given up in that dream long ago; it was clear that she was no good at saving people.

There weren’t many injuries to deal with, but she always made sure to be at the Dropship on important nights in case she was needed. As more people began to come to her with injuries, Clarke became closer with more members, like Murphy, the sarcastic anarchist that had hobbled in a few weeks ago after a protest escalated and he had ended up with a nasty gash on his face. Up until that point, Clarke had been pretty guarded around him, put off by his tough exterior, but that ended when he insisted that his girlfriend Emori be treated for her small scrape first, betraying his secret soft side. She had grown to appreciate his biting humour and brutal honesty. 

When she wasn’t working at the ‘clinic’, which in reality was nothing more than a table and bench in the corner of the Dropship, she was roaming the streets with Octavia and Miller, helping them put up posters that she had designed. 

Bellamy had snuck up on her one day while she was sketching, and after seeing her work he had suggested she draw up some posters. Even though it wasn’t the type of art she was used to, Clarke still felt a rush of satisfaction each time one of pieces was completed. 

It also gave her something to do during the day other than napping, when she felt uselessly stuck in the ARK. She made sure to hide all of her sketches in her room, though she didn’t think Abby suspected anything was amiss. 

She loved those nights spent with Octavia and Miller. The feeling of freedom that came with sneaking through alleyways and tunnels. It felt like something a normal teenager would do with her friends. Clarke liked that, pretending for a moment that she was just a normal teenager. But then the morning would arrive and bring with it the weight of her father's death and her mother's actions, and she would be brought back to harsh reality. 

Tonight was a protest that the Delinquents had been organizing for a few months, and was expected to be one of their biggest. Using the bug that Clarke had planted, along with some extra hacking from Raven, the Delinquents had leaked to the press records showing that multiple politicians were bribing the police and judges. This was no surprise for Clarke - she had long suspected her mother of being involved in something dirty like that. How did she keep her reputation so clean? But, no matter how hard they tried, the Delinquents couldn’t get anything connecting Abby or Jaha to the scheme. Again, they had been let off the hook. In response, this protest had been organized calling for their resignation. It was a long shot, but the hope was to grab more media attention in order to spread their message. Tonight was important. 

But despite how much Clarke had argued the night before that she would be more valuable on the front lines with the rest of the protestors, Bellamy had stuck her on nurse duty. She had spent the whole day both miserable and angry. Did Bellamy really still not trust her?

The day of the protest, Octavia slipped into her bedroom and put a comforting hand on Clarke’s shoulder. 

“Look, I know you’re upset about not being allowed to go to the protest. But cut Bell some slack, okay?” 

Clarke sighed. “I just hate feeling so useless. I can’t fight like you or Miller, I’m not good with technology like Raven, Monty, or Jasper - all I do is doodle and hand out bandaids.”

“What are you talking about Clarke!?” Octavia exclaimed. “In the few months you’ve been a Delinquent, you’ve quickly become one of our most invaluable members.” 

Clarke began to object only for Octavia to hush her. “You’re our only nurse, you help with posters, and although he would never admit it, I know that Bell secretly values your advice on strategies. You joining us was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened!” 

Clarke looked up at her best friend with a hesitant smile. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Clarke. You’re a Delinquent now. You’re part of the family whether you like it or not.” 

Clarke let out a watery laugh as she jumped up to embrace Octavia. It had been so long since she last had a family. And she would’ve never expected when she was first pushed into the Dropship on that fateful night that she would ever consider the place home. But, the friends she had made, and the newfound sense of purpose she had been given, had begun to fill a void that had always been in her, even before her Dad’s death. It was a nice feeling, belonging to something bigger than herself. 

And so, as Clarke fidgeted restlessly in the Dropship later that night, watching her friends get ready for the protest, she pushed down her dejection. She forced herself to give Jasper and Monty a thumbs up when they left with their cameras, ready to document the events of the night. She gave Raven and Octavia a tight hug and watched them walk out of the door, wishing she was walking out beside them. 

She continued to stare at the open door long after the two girls disappeared from sight, until she felt a heavy hand lay on her shoulder. Her instincts kicked in and she whirled around, yanking the hand off of her. 

“Woah!” Bellamy exclaimed, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm. 

Clarke’s tense shoulders relaxed, and she offered him a feeble smile. 

“Sorry, I’m a bit on edge right now. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in on you before I left. Tonight’s our biggest protest, which means a higher chance of rioting and injuries, so you might be kept pretty busy until morning.”

“Yeah I figured.” Clarke responded. 

“Do you think you’re all set? Need me to grab anything for you before I leave?” 

She shook her head. The anger she had been pushing down all day began to rise back up. “I’m _fine_ Bellamy. Just go, you have better places to be right now.”

Bellamy let out a heavy exhale at her short tone and clenched jaw. “Look, I know you’re upset about having to stay back. And _no_ , Octavia didn’t tell me, but you didn’t do a great job at hiding it. I hope you understand that I’m not keeping you here because I don’t trust you; we all know that you’ve earned our trust. I’m keeping you here because we need you safe.” 

Clarke felt something warm flutter in her chest at his words. At the confirmation that she had his trust. Bellamy cleared his throat and furrowed his brows, not quite looking at her. 

“Um, I mean, you _are_ our only doctor and we can’t risk having the princess of the Ark spotted at one of our protests.” 

Suddenly, the warmth Clarke had felt fluttered out. Of course that was what he meant. It made sense. She berated herself in her mind, feeling stupid for taking things so out of context. From now on, she promised, she would stay in reality. She would listen to her head, like she always did, like her Dad had always told her to. 

“...Yeah, of course.” A humourless laugh escaped her lips. “I’m just the princess of the Ark after all.”, Clarke said bitterly.

Bellamy opened his mouth, but before Clarke found out whether it was to object or agree, a voice called out from the alleyway beyond the still opened door. 

“ _Bellamy_! Hurry it up, we have places to be.”

He stood there, looking torn. Clarke nodded her head towards the door.

“You heard them. I’m not going to pretend I like staying back, but I’ll hold the fort down while you’re gone.” 

He stayed still, brown eyes scanning the room as though checking that everything was in order before landing on her. He gave her a quick nod, his face serious as he slipped back into leader mode. Silently, he turned away and began moving towards the exit.

Before she could think twice, Clarke grabbed his hand. 

It was warm, and her mind flashed to her sketchbook, envisioning the pencil strokes she could use to draw each finger, each freckle. Clarke quickly pushed that thought to the back corner of her mind. Now was not the time for art and God knows she would never risk the embarrassment of being caught drawing Bellamy. She instead focused on what was happening in the present. 

“Hey,” she softly said. “Be safe.” 

Bellamy held her gaze for a long moment, searching for something in her expression, what she did not know. The air between them seemed to fizzle with something indescribable. 

Then. just as suddenly as it had started, the moment broke when Clarke yanked her hand back from his, holding it behind her back as though burned from his touch. She couldn’t believe she had done that. Embarrassment overcame her, and she quickly masked her face into cool detachment to hide the shame flooding her mind.

His eyes hardened, and she could almost see the moment his walls went back up and he became the arrogant Bellamy Blake she had met her first night here. 

“Scared, princess? Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.” 

He gave her a cocky smile, a smile she had grown to hate even more now that she had seen his real one. Still, she couldn’t blame him for putting up his walls when she had put hers up first. 

“Try not to miss me too much.”

Then, without looking back once, he strode out the door and into the restless night. 

* * *

For the next few hours, Clarke was alone with nothing but her worry and boredom to keep her company. 

Occasionally, someone would rush through the door and she would jump up, eager to channel her pent up nerves towards treating the cut or pepper spray or whatever minor injury the person had. Still, the second she applied the last bandage or stitch, they wasted no time running back out the door and returning to the protest.

And she was left alone, again.

Clarke hated feeling this way: worried, useless, angry. 

A sound caught her attention, and she quickly perked up from where she had been dejectedly slouching. Was it just her imagination, or did she hear voices approaching the Dropship? 

She strained her ears, and to her surprise she heard what sounded like footsteps. Maybe it was another person with a small injury that she could use to take her mind off the boredom. Her excitement quickly vanished when the metal door slammed open with a resounding bang, and she saw who was on the other side. 

Bellamy stood in the doorway, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. His brown curls were matted together, and what she could see of his face beneath the mask he wore was covered in grime. She recognized Miller standing besides him equally as dirty and out of breath.

Him and Bellamy had matching dark splatters of blood marking their clothes. But that wasn’t what caused her heart to drop into her stomach. She was a doctor, and blood alone didn’t bother her. 

It was the source of the blood that caused her vision to start spinning and her mind to go utterly blank. 

_Octavia_. 

She looked like a broken doll in Bellamy's arms. Her head lolled to the side and her face, which was usually red with passion or wrinkled with a smile, was pale and unmoving.

There was a red stain rapidly spreading at her abdomen, and although Clarke was never bothered at the sight of blood, knowing that the blood came from her best friend made her knees buckle. 

She let out a sound of despair, and Bellamy’s eyes latched onto here. There was a frenzied look to them. The terrified boy that was in front of her now was a complete contrast to the cocky leader she had said goodbye to all those hours ago. 

A stray tear tracked its way down his face, and the sight of that was so unsettling that it snapped Clarke out of her frozen state.

Instantaneously, she let her mind take control of her, and pushed herself into medical mode. Right now, Octavia didn’t need another scared friend. She needed a confident, calm doctor. And Clarke wasn’t going to let her down.

“Set her down on the table.” She barked, turning to clear the surface off and gather her tools. She looked over her shoulder when she heard no movement, and saw that Bellamy was still frozen in the doorway. 

“Bellamy! _NOW_.” Her loud voice seemed to shake him out of his stupor, and he rushed towards the metal table, carefully lowering his sister onto the cool surface. 

Clarke pushed him away so that she could have better access to the wound, but he didn’t go far, moving to stand behind her head. Miller stood behind him, nervously pacing back and forth. 

“What happened?” Clarke questioned as she ripped off the lower half of Octavia’s blood-soaked shirt. Her whole abdomen was sticky with blood, making it hard for Clarke to find the wound.

Miller cleared his throat when it became clear that Bellamy wasn’t going to say anything, too caught up in staring at his sister’s blank face. 

“The- the protest got out of hand and out of nowhere the ARK guards...they fired into the crowd.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. 

“Bellamy and I found Octavia on the ground, passed out with a pool of blood around her. Rushed her back here as fast as we could.” 

Clarke’s fingers found the gunshot wound and she quickly moved to grab a rag and a flask of moonshine. They had run out of sterilizer, and so it would have to do for now. She winced internally as she poured the clear liquid over the wound, grateful that Octavia wasn’t awake to experience the pain. Her feeling of gratitude increased when she saw that none of the organs had been pierced. She let out a breath of relief. 

“The bullet didn’t hit any of the organs, which is good. A miracle really.”

Miller nodded, but Bellamy didn’t give any indication that he had heard her. He just continued to stare at his sister with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows. It was like he had shut down at the sight of his sister hurt. Clarke could tell he was waging an inner battle with himself, and she wished she could say something to comfort him. But she knew it would be a futile effort until Octavia was healed. So, she returned her concentration to the girl lying in front of her. She thought back to what her hospital training had taught her about gunshot wounds. 

“Miller, I need you to grab me all the gauze we have, and some clean medical dressing. I have to stop the bleeding.” 

The next hour or so went by in a blur. Clarke applied pressure on the wound until the bleeding stopped. She applied the dressing and threw a blanket over her friend, and after checking her pulse one more time to make sure it was steady, she collapsed on the nearby bench. Miller had left a few minutes earlier after it became apparent that the protests still needed a leader, and that Bellamy wasn’t going to leave Octavia’s side anytime soon. He had been hesitant to leave, but Clarke had ordered him to go, knowing it was what Octavia would want. 

Now that she wasn’t focused on medically treating Octavia, the fear and exhaustion came flooding back. 

Her hands began to tremble at her side, and as she felt tears silently fall down her cheeks she was glad that there wasn’t anyone around to witness this. The icy Clarke Griffin falling apart. 

She was so caught up in her emotions that she didn’t notice Bellamy sit down beside her until he began to match her silent tears. She turned to him, and although he didn’t take his eyes off of his sister, she knew that he was listening. 

“She’s gonna be okay Bellamy. She _has_ to be okay.”

He took a shuttered breath, clearly trying to work up the strength to talk.

“I don’t know what I’d do without her. The only reason I’m the person I am today is because of her. And if she - if she _died_ because she went to a protest I planned, I don’t know….I-I can’t…” 

He angrily wiped away the tears streaming down her face. 

“Bellamy! Look at me. _Look at me_!” Clarke cried out, only stopping when his face spun towards her.

“You saved her life. If you hadn’t found her and brought her back so quickly...you can’t blame yourself for what that happened. And when she wakes up you know she’ll tell you the same thing.”

A pause of silence washed over them as her words sunk in. He reached out as though to grab her hand, when suddenly he jerked his hand back, staring at it in horror.

 _Oh_. 

She looked down at her own hand, and realized with repulsion that like him, it was covered with dried blood. Octavia’s blood. 

Her stomach turned, and she felt a wave of nausea overtake her.

Bellamy silently grabbed her hand and stood up, pulling her gently to her feet. Without a word, he led her to the rusty sink in the corner and let go off her crusted hand to turn on the tap. She looked at his face while he pulled her hands under the water, holding them with one hand and scrubbing at the skin with the other. The water was burning to the point of it being painful, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. As long as it got the blood off. 

Bellamy was wholly concentrated on the task at hand, his gaze never straying from the sink. Slowly but surely, the water turned pink as the blood washed away as he used his coarse thumb pad to rub off all traces of red. He moved to turn the tap off, but Clarke grabbed his hand to stop him. Although by washing her hands, he had pretty much completely washed his own, there was still a spot of blood on his left palm. With as much concentration as he had given her, Clarke scrubbed at the spot until it was gone, and any other stain that remained. 

The tap shut off but they made no effort to move, instead standing there in heavy silence. 

“Thank you.” 

Bellamy’s whisper was so quiet that Clarke almost missed it.

“Don’t thank me, Bellamy. I should’ve done more…”

“You did more than enough Clarke. When I walked in that door with Octavia in my arms, my brain just shut off. My heart has always controlled my head, it’s one of my greatest flaws, but yours didn’t. You saved Octavia.”

Clarke’s eyes searched his face and noted the vulnerability he was showing. The trust. Over the course of one night, all of their walls had come crashing down.

“It’s not a flaw, Bellamy. People follow you because of your heart. You inspire them.”

He sighed. “Still, I can’t let my emotions control me like that; I need to learn how to listen to my head.”

“Hey,” Clarke said, still staring into his eyes, watching the emotions flit through them. She was sure hers were doing the same. Her voice unconsciously dropped to a whisper. 

“You got me for that.”

Bellamy froze while the sentence echoed silently through the room. Just when Clarke was beginning to worry that she had overstepped, a small smile spread across his face. She didn’t know what Bellamy was going to say, but her heartbeat quickened. He opened his mouth to speak, and Clarke hung onto the breath he took with anticipation. 

“Clarke, I-“

The door slammed open, and the two jumped apart, spinning towards the sound. An unfamiliar man stormed in, and Clarke unconsciously took a step back until she was partially behind Bellamy. She wasn’t usually one to back down, but the wild look in the large man's eyes made her make an exception. 

His gaze latched onto hers and he turned towards them. 

“WHERE IS SHE?”, He yelled with a voice so loud and angry that Clarke flinched. Bellamy shifted in front of her so that she was now almost directly behind him. Who was this man? He had to be talking about Octavia, but she had never seen him at any Delinquent meetings. She peered around Bellamy’s back, keeping her eyes on the man that was now standing in front of them.

“Lincoln, you need to calm down.” Bellamy placed a hand on the man's chest. 

“CALM DOWN!?” He shouted, but Bellamy continued unfazed. 

“Octavia’s condition is stable, and once you calm down I’ll take you to see her.” 

At the news that Octavia was fine, the man, Lincoln, seemed to deflate on the spot. Clarke noticed that he was shaking. Was this another one of Octavias friends? She didn’t have another brother, _right_? It was clear that he cared about her, almost to the same degree as Bellamy. 

Her mind whirled with questions for a few moments more while Lincoln took some deep breaths. Finally, once Bellamy resolved that he was calm enough, he began leading him to where Octavia led in the clinic. Clarke trailed along behind them, but Lincoln didn’t even seem to notice her. 

The curtain that separated the clinic from the rest of the room was pulled back, and Lincoln froze as he took in Octavia’s unconscious form. After a moment, he slowly moved towards her side, and when he reached her, he fell to his knees and grabbed her limp hand. Clarke stood awkwardly, glancing at Bellamy who hadn’t moved either. It was becoming clear that whoever this man was, Octavia was important to him. In that way, Clarke felt his pain. 

“What happened.” Lincoln uttered in a low voice, completely opposite of the wild yelling he had let out when he first came in. He didn’t turn his head to look at them, keeping his eyes on Octavia. 

Bellamy weakly attempted to clear his throat. 

“She...um she was at the protest and uh-“

“-the guards went haywire and fired into the crowd. She got hit.” Clarke interjected, catching Bellamy's eye.

It was clear that he didn’t want to recount the event, and she understood. Everyone knew Bellamy as the fearless leader of the Delinquents. But Clarke had begun to see past that facade. 

Underneath, he was just as scared as anyone. Maybe even more so. And although she was terrified for Octavia too, she would make herself stay strong.

Clarke gave Bellamy a nod. _I’ve got you._

He smiled at her, weak but full of gratitude. _Thank you_. 

“I was able to stop the bleeding in time and there was no damage to the organs, so she will be fine. Her body just needs to rest and then once it’s ready, she’ll wake up.” She said with forced certainty, addressing Lincoln but looking at Bellamy.

Her eyes flicked away from his as Lincoln slowly stood up, turning his head to look back at her. 

“She shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.” His eyes were burning with anger as he turned to Bellamy. 

“You should’ve stopped her! You should’ve _protected_ her! This is all your fault Bellamy.” 

“ _Hey_ ! The only people at fault are the guards that shot into the crowd. No one else. Octavia knew what she was getting into, and how ever much I hate to see her like this, I know she would rather risk her life and do what’s right than let other people fight her battles. For someone who’s clearly close to her, I’m surprised you don’t know that. Or that the last thing she would’ve wanted is for her _brother_ to be blamed for things _out of his control_!” 

Lincoln turned towards Clarke, whose chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath from her outburst. 

“I didn’t catch your name, did I?” He titled his face in an almost animalistic way. 

“Wait a second, I recognize you. You’re…..that Griffin girl. The _princess_.” He snarled. It was crazy how a nickname that was spoken so softly by one person could be hurled like a weapon by another. 

Bellamy straightened to his full height, sensing the anger brewing in the other man's chest. 

“Her name is _Clarke_. She’s been a member of the Delinquents for the past few months.”

He took a step towards Lincoln. 

“And she’s been Octavia's best friend for much longer, so if I were you I would choose my next words _very_ carefully.”

The two men stared at each other, the tension rising in the air, coming to a crashing halt when Lincoln crumbled down to his knees, face buried in his large hands. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’m so scared that she - she won’t wake up. Please forgive me. I just… I really need her to be okay. I _love_ her.Do you hear me Octavia? I love you.” 

Clarke watched as he grasped Octavias hand with his own, and bent over her still body, his tears dripping on to her bandage. The worried sobs echoed through the empty room. Octavia did not wake. 

She thought back to what Lincoln had confessed. Octavia must mean a lot to him. She would have to ask Octavia about it when she woke up. 

_If she woke up_. Clarke’s heart started beating erratically as the weight of the situation came down upon her again. Lincoln’s arrival had provided a momentary distraction, but her worry was back in full force. 

What if she hadn’t done enough? What if she couldn’t save Octavia, just like she couldn’t save her dad? Her head started pounding, and the room began to swirl as she felt the effects of fearful guilt take a hold of her. Her legs went weak, and she began to sway forward. 

A steady hand grabbed hold of her shoulder and helped her right her balance. Bellamy scanned her face with worry in his brown eyes, brow creased with confusion. 

“Clarke?” 

She tried to shake him off, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead his other hand came up to grip her other shoulder, leading her away from Lincoln and Octavia until they were in a more private part of the Dropship. 

“I’m fine, just a bit tired. Now stop fussing over me, I should probably go check Octavia’s bandages again. I might’ve missed something or maybe the wound’s become infected and I -“

“You did everything you could. You have to breath; here copy me. In….”

Both of their chests expanded as they inhaled, so close that their chests almost touched. Clarke didn’t allow herself to think about how easy it would be to shift forward into his comforting warmth.

Instead, she focused on her exhale. The two of them repeated the motion a few more times until her heart rate was finally slowed and her hands weren’t trembling. She still felt exhausted and worried, but her emotions were a bit more under her control. Just how she liked them. 

“It’s almost morning, princess. I hate it as much as you do but I think it’s time to return to your palace.” 

He gave her a small smile, clearly trying to lighten the mood. Clarke’s eyes shot down to her watch.

4 am. She couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone. On a normal night, she would’ve been back in her room by now to ensure she wouldn’t be caught when the guards rotated into their morning shifts. 

But this wasn’t a normal night. 

“It’s fine, I can stay for a little while longer. Besides, I’m needed here.”

Logically, she knew there was nothing more she could do for her best friend. But she didn’t want to accept that she was once again useless. 

Bellamy let out a huff as his face became serious, all traces of humour gone. 

“Clarke, you’re _exhausted_. I’m worried about O too, but I’m not going to let you work yourself to the bone. Go home, You’ll be more use to us once you're rested. And don’t worry, Lincoln and I will watch over her. You can come by tomorrow night to check up on her.”

Clarke furrowed her brow as she considered his words. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, she was exhausted. And if she waited much longer to go back to the ARK she would surely be caught trying to sneak back in. 

“Fine. But I get informed about any changes in her condition, and I mean _any,_ when I come back tomorrow night.”

“You got it, princess.”

He gently pushed her towards the door. “Now do me a favour: go back to the ARK and sleep for _at least_ eight hours okay?” 

A small smile spread across Clarke’s face at his words as she left. It had been a while since she had someone take care of her. 

Half awake, she jogged through the alleys and streets, careful to avoid the areas that she knew would be busy with the stragglers from the protest. By now, the majority of the Delinquents would be headed back to the Dropship. Although she wished she could sit by Octavia’s side until she woke, Clarke felt better knowing that Octavia had a whole village of people there who cared about her. They would look after her.

The early morning sun was just peaking over the horizon as she stumbled into bed, stopping only to strip her blood covered clothes off and throw them under her bed. She would deal with them when she woke up. 

Before long, her eyelids slid shut and she fell into a deep sleep. She only hoped that when she woke from her sleep and entered reality, her best friend would be there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading the newest chapter, I hope you liked it. I know it's been a while since I last updated and I'm really trying to make sure that the next chapter doesn't take as long. A lot of personal things happened that didn't allow me to spend as much time writing as I wanted to. I also fell into a bit of a slump, and it was really hard to get myself motivated and inspired. Kudos and comments are what kept me writing, so please keep those coming and let me know what you think of the story so far! I can't wait for you all to see where it's going and I hope you're as excited as I am. If you've read all of this, thank you!!! love you all, and hope an amazing week.  
> -K


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